


(again, and again, and again ...)

by fr4nkiero



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Bottom Frank, Cheating, Explicit Sexual Content, Frerard, M/M, Past Drug Use, Prostitute Frank, Prostitution, Smut, in the closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8252872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fr4nkiero/pseuds/fr4nkiero
Summary: “Seems like someone’s in a pissy mood tonight,” he says as he turns to face Gerard, bringing his hand up to push the hair out of his face and letting it rest on his cheek.   “Does that mean you’re gonna be extra rough with me… sir?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm bringing this up now because it was brought to my attention when this was first posted. I believe sex workers are extremely hard working and deserve nothing but respect and to be treated just like normal people. I hate referring to them as 'whores', but that's what I chose to do in order to show how the main character is feeling, trying to convince himself that he doesn't really want to sleep with Frank, etc. The things Gerard says in this are not my own personal opinions.)

 

 

_Why do I keep coming back?_

That same thought goes through Gerard’s mind every single time, and he still doesn’t have an answer for it.

 

 

  
Gerard gets out of the shower at around midnight and tries to convince himself to go to bed for the next hour. He stands there in the cramped bathroom, towel around his waist and his hands clutching the counter so hard his knuckles are white. His heart is pounding, the only sound he can hear is the water dripping off his hair, rolling down his pointed nose before falling down into the sink.

If he focuses hard enough he can hear Lindsey in the kitchen humming along to the music on the TV while she makes a late night snack for herself.

His stomach cramps and he has to swallow the lump in his throat.

Lindsey’s the perfect girl, really, and Gerard does love her. Just … maybe not in the way a _husband_ should love his _wife_. She’s gorgeous, talented, hilarious, and she doesn’t take anyone’s shit. Her eyes sparkle when she laughs or talks about her latest project, and she gives the most loving hugs as if she feels like it’s the last one she’ll ever give you.

So why is he so unhappy?

If he were to ask Frank that question he’d just laugh in Gerard’s face and tell him, “Oh, you know why, baby.”

It’s happened before.

Eventually Gerard looks up at himself in the mirror and takes a deep breath before making his way to the bedroom. He has a tight grip on the towel as he shuffles along the cold, wooden floor of the hallway until he makes it to the door, nudging it open with his shoulder. Even with the music playing in the living room, the cars honking and speeding up and down the roads, and the couple arguing next door, it still felt too quiet.

His head feels fuzzy. He hasn’t felt this way since he hit rock bottom.  
  
Fuck, he has to be quick. Even though he wants to do this again, do it again _so bad,_ he still wants it to be over as fast as fucking possible.  
  
He rummages through the dresser, trying his hardest to make his hands stop shaking. He knows that if he knocks something over, Lindsey' will come to check up on him, but Gerard wants to try and avoid talking to her as much as he can tonight.

He decides on a black button up shirt, skinny jeans, boots, and some cheap toxic smelling hair gel from the CVS across the street to make his hair look a little more tousled. He knows it'll probably fall flat again in about an hour, but he’s sure Frank won’t mind making it messy again.

He definitely won’t mind.

Gerard’s about to step out of the room when something catches his eye. He turns around and glances at the closet door that’s pushed open, noticing his leather jacket hung up on the far end and feels as if it’s staring back at him.

He shakes his head and sighs before quickly walking over to it and yanking it off the hanger, trying not to think too much while he puts it on. Lindsey bought this jacket for him two years ago.

Gerard never really liked it, but that’s just because he thought it looked bad on him.

Lindsey strongly disagreed and had given him a disapproving look when he said that before kissing his cheek and telling him he looked sexy, but Gerard didn’t believe her.

But when _Frank_ told him the same thing… well… that was different.

 

 

***

 

 

He makes his way down the dark road, the only source of light being the dim street lamps that continued to flicker every thirty seconds or so, casting a dirty orange hue over everything it shone down on. Rundown liquor stores, sex shops, and a movie rental place that looked way too flashy to be in a place like this were the only things that line the dirty street.

The cops around here have more important things to do than look out for people paying whores for a quick fuck, so Gerard’s isn’t too worried about getting into any kind of trouble.

He was definitely worried about that the first time he’d come here though, fucking terrified, actually.

“You’re so tense,” Frank had said that night when him and Gerard were pressed against each other in the backseat of Gerard’s beat up car.

He sat up in Gerard’s lap, straddling him and rolling his hips slightly while he slowly rubbed his hands up and down Gerard’s chest, his t-shirt lifting a bit.  
  
Gerard leaned his head back, breathing deeply through his nose, his hands hesitantly reaching out to rest on Frank’s hips. He was just about to pull back when Frank yanked his hands towards him, placing them where Gerard had wanted, resting his own hands on top of his as he continued to grind against him.

Gerard’s hands felt so big against the small swell of Frank’s hips, and he watched as he gently pressed his thumb against the tattoo on Frank’s lower stomach, the way the skin dipped under the light pressure.

“W-what,” Gerard swallowed, “what if we get caught,” he mumbled, feeling short of breath already.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” Frank smirked, undoing Gerard’s belt with one hand, the other making it’s way up Gerard’s shirt.

“We could always film it if you want,” he giggled.

A little strand of hair fell over Frank’s eye and he scrunched up his face before tossing his head back to get it out of the way, focusing his attention on Gerard once again and giving him a lopsided smile. Gerard took this moment to look at Frank, really  _look_ at him. Dark brown hair that curled slightly around his ears, big doe eyes, and pouty lips. His tattoos were so colorful and looked as if they told a story about Frank's life. Things that were most important to him and his memories all scattered permanently on his skin and they suited him so well. His skin once a blank canvas, now a masterpiece.

Gerard’s breath caught in his throat.

This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t be doing this.

Fuck, he needed to go back home, needed to sleep, needed to be with his _wife_.

“If we get caught, we could just say we were makin' a porno.”

Gerard frowned at that, he told himself that after that night, he wanted to forget it ever happened. He didn’t want to be filmed, he didn’t want to look back on this ever again.

Boy, was he wrong.

Gerard was about to speak again but stopped himself and looked down at his left hand when Frank pulled it off his waist, holding it up to get a closer look. Gerard opened his mouth to ask what Frank was looking at and -- Oh.

His ring.

Frank looked down at him and raised an eyebrow.

Gerard just stared back. What the fuck was he supposed to say?

_Yeah, sorry, recently I’ve realized that I can only fuck my wife when thinking about guys and I just lied to her and told her I’d be working late so I could finally live out one of my fantasies, haha._

Frank just smirked, bringing Gerard’s hand up to his mouth and Gerard watched closely.

He licked from Gerard’s knuckle to the tip of his finger before slowly putting his mouth over it and Gerard moaned at the feeling.

If Frank’s mouth felt this good just on his fingers, Gerard wondered how it would feel elsewhere.

He moved down until his lips were just above the ring and he hummed to himself. Gerard didn’t take his eyes off him as Frank bit down on it and moved up, taking the ring off completely with his mouth.

Gerard stared, his heart pounding. He was speechless.

Luckily Frank saved him the trouble of speaking by putting the ring in Gerard’s front pocket, patting over it gently before leaning down to suck on his neck.

 

 

***

 

 

Gerard pulls up to where they usually meet, the entrance to an alleyway between a liquor store and an empty building that was for rent, but it’d been empty for months.

He spots Frank instantly, but Frank doesn’t seem to notice him yet.

Gerard watches him for a minute, watches the way he rests his head back against the dirty brick wall before leaning forward and running his fingers through his hair. It’s getting longer, Gerard notices.

Frank yawns and rubs his eyes, and that makes Gerard check the time.

**2:32 AM.**

Shit, he feels bad for making Frank stay up late when he’s clearly exhausted.

Gerard then realizes he has no idea where Frank live.

Well… he doesn't know anything about Frank really, all they ever did was fuck. But he was curious as to where Frank went off to after hours and hours of fucking countless people in one night, and  what he did as his day job, if he even had one. It’s difficult for him to imagine Frank doing anything other than having sex for money and that thought automatically makes Gerard feel like a douche. Sure, he was a prostitute but he was still a real _person_ , not some sexbot that just shut off during the day time.

Clearly something bad had to be going on in Frank’s life for him to resort to selling himself to get some extra money.

But Gerard knew he’d never find out why because Frank liked to keep his personal life… well... _personal_. It was strictly sex between them and they both wanted to keep it that way, so, why did Gerard want to know more about Frank so bad?

Gerard doesn’t get to study the man for much longer before Frank looks over in his direction, like he knew he was being watched.

Frank raises his eyebrows at him before throwing his head back and laughing. The fucker was _laughing_ at him.

He bites his lip and saunters over to the car, his hips swaying slightly and, _fuck_ , those pants are tight.

“Well hello there, stranger,” he smirks at Gerard as he moves down towards the passenger window, Gerard had rolled it down before he even left his house.

“Shut up,” Gerard grumbles, leaning over to unlock the door for Frank.

Frank snorts. “Oh, touchy,” he purrs as he swiftly slides into his seat before shutting the door noisily.

“Seems like someone’s in a pissy mood tonight,” he says as he turns to face Gerard, bringing his hand up to push the hair out of his face and letting it rest on his cheek.

Gerard turns his head to the side, pressing against Frank’s palm, savoring the warm touch.

“Does that mean you’re gonna be extra rough with me… sir?” he whispers seductively, dragging his nails lightly down the side of Gerard’s neck, smirking when Gerard closes his eyes and tries to suppress a moan. Frank knows how much Gerard loves that.

Frank moves forward and finally presses their lips together and Gerard sighs against Frank’s mouth before kissing back, resting his hand on the back of Frank’s neck and using his thumb to rub softly under Frank’s ear.

He feels the scruff in places Frank missed while shaving and for some reason that sends shiver down Gerard's spine. It reminds him that Frank’s human, that he has a life outside of all of this. It makes it all feel more real and Gerard suddenly feels just as anxious as the first time they did this.

Frank seems to sense Gerard getting nervous because he kisses him harder, licking against Gerard’s bottom lip before biting onto it, his lip caught between Frank’s teeth as he pulls back before releasing, giggling when Gerard whimpers.

Gerard tries to get as close to Frank as he possibly can, things getting more heated by the second. Frank’s clinging to Gerard’s shirt and clawing at his chest as he tries to clumsily undo the top button but Gerard’s seat belt is restricting him from getting any closer, making him unable to feel Frank pressed flush against him.

“Please,” Frank whimpers.

“I,” Gerard takes a deep breath, “we can go get a motel room. Kay, Frankie?” he finishes, still so close to Frank he can feel him panting against Gerard’s cheek.

“Yeah, fuck,” Frank whines before kissing Gerard again.

“B-but,” Gerard says, breaking away momentarily, “this is the last time.”

Frank makes a noncommittal sound against Gerard’s lips and doesn’t say anything else.

Gerard’s never been a good liar.

 

 

***

 

 

The more he continues to do this, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t think he _can_ stop. Seeing Frank once every other week is just part of his routine now.

Actually... let's go with _habit_ instead of routine.

Routine sounds like it’s something he’s used to, and even though he does it so fucking often, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this.

Their skin is sticking together every time Gerard pushes forward because they're practically drenched in sweat. The sound of Frank’s needy whines fill his ears and he groans, pressing his face into Frank’s neck, leaving a few lingering kisses, trying his hardest to pretend like this won’t end. Like Frank is his and Gerard isn’t _married_.

Frank has his legs wrapped around Gerard, his ankles locked against his lower back. His arms on Gerard’s shoulders like he’s scared to let go as he drags his blunt nails down the pale skin of Gerard’s back, his stomach fluttering at the thought of him having to hide the intense red lines that’ll be there for days.

Gerard hisses at the slight sting but it only pushes him closer to the edge and he thrusts particularly hard into Frank causing the man under him to squeeze Gerard’s shoulder and gasp.

They’re as close as they can get to each other but they both feel the need to get closer somehow.

Gerard presses his forehead against Frank’s, breathing in his desperate moans. Gerard can tell Frank is getting close when he reaches up to tug on Gerard’s hair and arches his back, letting one leg fall onto the bed and using the other to dig his heel into Gerard’s lower back so he can fuck Frank harder,  _deeper_.

Gerard sets a faster pace, gripping Frank’s hips tight enough to leave bruises before he stops suddenly, shuddering against Frank and moaning loudly. His heart is thudding in his chest and he knows Frank can feel it.

He stays where he is but reaches down to get Frank off, smiling when Frank jumps at the sudden contact before practically melting into the bed, letting out a deep groan as he pushes up into Gerard’s hand.

Gerard enjoys doing this, he really does, but the intense wave of guilt still washes over him when Frank moans Gerard’s name.

 

 

***

 

 

“So…,” Frank starts, words slurred due to the lit cigarette dangling from his lips and him focusing on buttoning his jeans.

Gerard reverts his gaze back to the TV and pretends like he wasn’t staring as Frank looks up at him.

Wheel of Fortune … how exciting.

Gerard remembers something and frowns, looking at Frank again for a moment. This isn’t even a smoking room.

Frank sits down on the rickety chair near the window, breathing the smoke out the screen cover. Gerard feels like he’s in some sort of trance.

The volume on the TV is quiet enough to sound like nothing more than a low hum, but the sound of traffic outside is getting louder, and that’s when Gerard notices the sun is rising. It’s still pretty dark out, but light enough to cast odd shadows over Frank’s soft skin, making him look as if he’s wearing dark theatrical makeup.

Gerard’s never seen someone so gorgeous.

Frank continues to smoke, taking long drags and holding them in longer than he probably should before blowing it out slowly, trying and failing to make smoke rings. Frank looks down at his hand then and rubs over a small cut he didn’t realize was on his thumb, shivering when a light gust of wind makes its way into the room.

It’s almost like the world hasn’t woken up yet, and it’s just them. Just them, the TV, and Gerard’s wedding ring burning a hole in his pocket.

Gerard looks down, deciding to take the ring out and put it back on so he doesn’t forget.

He stares at it.

It feels wrong.

After doing what he just did, it feels totally fucking wrong to put this back on and just go back home like nothing happened. But what else was he supposed to do?

“Hm.”  
  
Gerard looks up and notices Frank’s staring at him. It seems like he’s finished with his cigarette and Gerard sees it put out in the ashtray on the window sill. Huh, maybe it is a smoking room.

“Yes?” Gerard mumbles, picking the remote up and changing the channel. Ah, an infomercial about vacuums, _much_ better.

“Geebear.”

Gerard flinches at the nickname and shoots Frank a warning look. Only Lindsey calls him that.

Frank gives him a wry smile before cracking his neck.

It’s silent again.

“Hm,” Frank sighs.

“Fucking, _what_?” Gerard growls, feeling agitated.

“When are you finally gonna grow a pair and tell your wife that you like fucking men?” Frank tries hiding his smirk by putting his tongue against the inside of his cheek but Gerard can see it.

Gerard’s mouth is too dry to come up with a good response.

He settles for closing his eyes and counting to five.

“I told you this was the last-”  
  
“Yeah, no, I heard you,” Frank scoffs, standing up and grabbing his phone off the table, angrily shoving it into his pocket before walking across the room to pick up the money Gerard had left for him on the nightstand.

Frank grimaces when his hand slides across something sticky.

“This is the last time,” Frank chuckles sarcastically, “you said that last week too… and the week before that … and the week before that … and--”

“I get it!” Gerard shouts, his hands balled up into fists at his sides.

Frank seemed to jump at the sound of Gerard raising his voice.

“Frank, it’s …”  
  
“It’s what?” Frank asks making his way towards the door and Gerard feels his heart fall a little at the thought of Frank already leaving.

“... I don’t know,” Gerard finishes pathetically and Frank rolls his eyes.

Neither of them speak for a moment and Frank still doesn’t open the door to leave.  
  
“Why do you care?” Gerard asks, the anger he felt once before slowing seeping back into him.

“It’s not like we’re a thing. You’re just … a good fuck… a whore.”

Gerard regrets the words the second they came out of his mouth.

Frank’s face remains blank and Gerard has no fucking idea what to do with that.

“Right…” Frank whispers, finally opening the door.

He looks at Gerard for a moment.

“See you in two weeks,” he says before slamming the door.

Even with a wife to go home to, Gerard’s never felt so alone.

 

 

_Why do I keep coming back?_

That same thought goes through Gerard’s mind every single time.

But now… he thinks he has an answer for that.

 

 

_end._

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh, I was feeling angsty ... don't hate me! I might (MIGHT) turn this into a little 'verse, we'll see ... Cause I don't like sad endings. Please, let me know what you guys think!
> 
> Comments and kudos are both greatly appreciated. xx


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